


A Sullen Sorrow

by kethni



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M, former relationship, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: She should have never dated him.She should have never broken up with him.Both.Neither.





	A Sullen Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> For Crazymaryt with thanks for the suggestion!

These past few years, Mary Wilson had grown increasingly fond of scouring the obituaries. Not just for acquaintances, for anyone. She would compete with her friends to find the salacious or exotic. She rarely shared this pursuit with Sue who Did Not Approve.

‘Is this the Kent Davison you worked with?’ Mary said, peering at the paper.

Sue’s stomach dropped. She had to grip the arm of the chair. ‘What?’

‘Don’t take that tone with me! It says here. Roisin Davidson, survived by daughters, Perdita and Hermione, and son, Kent.’

Sue scowled at her. ‘I thought you meant he was dead. Also, it’s pronounced “Ro-sheen” not that way you said it.’

Mary sniffed. ‘Foreign, I suppose.’

‘Irish.’

‘Exactly.’

Sue bought her own copy of the paper and pored over the notice. She hadn’t seen Kent in weeks. He was working for Jonah now and she had been looking forward to taunting him about it. That was what they had now, glances across a room and sniping comments.

She should have never dated him.

She should have never broken up with him.

Both.

Neither.

Sue liked things to be simple. Straightforward. Kent had seemed pleasantly uncomplicated, pleasingly dispassionate, and entirely disposable.

He had been none of these things.

Sue had wanted an intelligent, well-dressed man, with a good career. A man who complemented her life was an appropriate accessory for a woman of her age, education, and station in life.  

She hadn’t wanted a love affair. Love was _messy,_ uncontrollable, and painful.

She hadn’t wanted desire, passion, and jealousy. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t supposed to be her. He had no right to do that to her. It was horrifying. Terrifying. _Wrong_.

So, she killed the monster, excised the alien inside her, and moved on. That was all. Very simple. Very straight-forward.

***

Ben broke into a wide smile when he saw her on his doorstep. It appeared quite genuine. That was... disconcerting. Sue did not consider Ben to be a friend. He was a sodden sponge, leaking misery and cynicism on anyone who drew close.

A smile was peculiar. The bear hug that he went for was even more disconcerting. She might go as far as calling it “alarming.”

She was ushered in the living room, re-introduced to his wife, and plied with coffee and cakes.

‘What brings you here?’ Ben asked.

Sue put aside her barely touched slabs of cake. ‘I was hoping you might know where Kent Davison is.’

Ben stuck a thick finger into his ear and turned it around.

‘Ben!’ Joyce said. ‘This is why you get earwax.’

Ben rolled his eyes at Sue. ‘Kent’s working for Jonah, which is hilarious. It’s a murder/suicide waiting to happen.’

Sue allowed herself a small simile. ‘I am aware of that. I saw the Congressman last week; however, Mr Davison was not with him.’

‘Didn’t you say his mom was ill?’ Joyce prompted.

Ben snapped his fingers. ‘Yeah, I think he took a couple of weeks off to go spend time with his mom.’ He shrugged, his mood plummeting. ‘I don’t think they expect her to make it.’

‘She didn’t,’ Sue said. ‘Her obituary was in the paper this morning.’

Ben groaned. ‘Oh, f...’ He caught himself and glanced at Joyce. ‘Hell. Oh hell.’

Joyce shook her head as she got up.

‘Where’re you going?’ Ben asked. ‘I didn’t say it.’

‘I’m going to buy a card and send flowers,’ she said crisply.

‘Oh,’ Ben said sheepishly. He turned back to Sue. ‘She’s good at that stuff.’

‘Do you know where she lived?’

‘Huh? Kent’s mom? I wanna say Chicago.’ Ben gulped a mouthful of coffee. ‘She owe you money or something?’

Sue glanced down at her cup. ‘I knew her a little.’

Ben tapped his foot. ‘He introduced you to his mom?’

‘No. Not exactly. We spoke on the telephone numerous times.’

‘You seem pissed he didn’t tell you,’ Ben said.

‘To some small degree,’ Sue said.

Ben propped his chin in his hand. She didn’t care for the way he was looking at her.

‘But we’re talking about Kent,’ he said. ‘He hasn’t got the social awareness of a drunken frat boy at the Playboy mansion.’

‘You do him a disservice,’ Sue said coldly.

‘Plus, you’re his ex,’ Ben said. ‘Right? And now you’re married. I wouldn’t have told you either.’

‘Ignore him,’ Joyce said, coming back into the room. ‘Kent is probably distracted with his grief.’

Sue and Ben exchanged uncomfortable glances. Sue suspected that Ben believed Kent incapable of grief. Sue knew better.

‘He’s probably a wreck,’ Ben said, startling Sue. ‘They were real close.’

‘Do you have an address for his mother?’ Sue asked.

Ben heaved himself out of his chair. ‘Lemme call him. See where he’s at.’

‘Don’t,’ Sue said.

Ben’s look was equal parts sympathy and pity. She could have punched him.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t mention you,’ he said.

 ***

A wreck. That was Ben. Unnecessarily melodramatic. Naturally Kent would be upset, anyone would be. It was natural. Losing a parent was an unhappy business. Sue’s father had died when she was twenty-three. That had been upsetting, despite Sue and her father not being close. Her parents were not demonstrative people. They had not welcomed attempts to forge a strong bond.

Sue had initially imagined Kent to be the same. She had mistaken a lack of tools for a lack of desire. She thought he wanted to keep everything shuttered and controlled, when he simply didn’t know how to do otherwise.

Kent welcomed interest even when it was intrusive, welcomed affection even when it was controlling, welcomed desire even when it was overbearing. He hadn’t been mistaken, the way she was mistaken. He hadn’t had the scent of desperation because he was peculiarly at peace with his unfulfilled needs. Yet he had made a clear-eyed decision that her interest, affection, and desire were worth the arguments, the jealousy, and the possessiveness.

The cat in Kent’s window meowed at Sue through the glass. An affectionate greeting, she had been given to understand. Macavity jumped down at Sue’s brisk knock. He would be waiting by the door. He liked to inspect visitors before they entered.

Kent was dressed in knee-length cargo shorts and a t-shirt. Shorts. Knee-length shorts. Sue tried not to stare.

‘I’ve just returned from a run,’ he said. Kent licked his lips. ‘Was I expecting you? I’ve been... busy. I fear it may have slipped my mind.’

She felt her shoulders clench. He didn’t forget things. He wouldn’t claim that he did. This was concerning.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You weren’t expecting me.’

Macavity was pleased to see her. More pleased, it seemed, than Kent who left her in the kitchen while he went to get changed. The kitchen was quite familiar to Sue. Kent’s home was entirely the province of a man who expected no visitors. He had turned the living room into a home gym. He kept alcohol in the kitchen, the television and sound system in the bedroom, and books in his study.

The kitchen was the closest thing to a “public space” and that barely. Sue made herself a cup of coffee before she remembered that she no longer enjoyed the privileges of open access to his home. She drank it anyway. When she heard the shower turn off, she quickly rinsed and dried the cup and put it away.

There were bottles of whiskey in the cupboard. Sue turned. Kent’s small bar in the corner of the room was fully stocked. She checked the recycling containers: full of whiskey bottles. Sue pursed her lips. She didn’t know how long it was since he had emptied the recycled bin. Perhaps it was weeks, or months.

As if Kent allowing his recycling to pile up for months was less concerning.

She shut the door and turned around a moment before he opened the door. She noticed now that his beard was a little longer than normal and his hair was brushing his collar.

‘You want another coffee?’ he asked.

‘Another?’

‘I can smell the one you made.’

‘No,’ she said.

He grunted and crossed over to the bar. ‘Something stronger?’

‘A martini perhaps,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘I remember.’

After he made Sue’s drink, he poured himself a generous measure of whiskey and leaned back against the counter. ‘What’s wrong?’

Sue swallowed a mouthful of martini. ‘What?’

His lips pulled into something closer to a sneer than a smile. ‘I strongly doubt this is a... what’s that phrase, a booty call?’

‘It’s not a booty call.’

He nodded. ‘Some problem then. I’m sure that you don’t need money.’

‘I heard about Roisin,’ Sue said.

Kent’s eye twitched. He looked away and drained his glass. ‘And?’

‘You didn’t tell me.’ Despite her intentions, she could hear the irritation in her voice.

His face twisted into a snarl. ‘What? What the fuck has it got to do with you?’ The hand holding the glass was white and shaking. ‘You didn’t know her.’

Sue braced her shoulders. ‘We spoke a number of times. She was always very pleasant.’

‘I’m fucking sorry that my mother is dead and I didn’t inform you personally!’

She knew a second before he moved what was going to happen. She flinched as he hurled the glass, not at her, nowhere near her, but at the far wall.

‘You’re frightening me!’ she snapped.

He stared at her. Eyes wide. Mouth slack. ‘What?’

Sue closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘You are frightening me.’

He sank onto a chair. ‘Sorry… I’m not... I wouldn’t... I’d never...’

Sue stepped past him to grab the brush from the cupboard.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ he said softly as she disposed of the glass.

‘It’s not for you.’ She straightened up. ‘Your cat is not John McClane. He will not be walking on broken glass.’

Kent said nothing.

She looked at him. ‘You’re imagining your cat in an undershirt and pants.’

Kent shrugged.

Sue sat down opposite him.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Don’t do it again,’ she said severely.

‘No.’ He looked away.

Sue stroked the side of his face. ‘You look like you just came down from a mountain.’

‘It’s all I can do to get out of bed and exercise,’ he said.

‘Are you seeing someone?’

He leaned into her touch. ‘Like a psychiatrist? That would be an unpleasant admission of failure. Every day, people lose their parents. They get through it.’

‘I did not mean a psychiatrist,’ Sue said. ‘Although antidepressants to help you through the worst might be useful.’

Kent looked at her blankly. ‘Then what did you mean?’

‘Are you dating? Is there someone to look after you?’

He frowned and shook his head. ‘I’m... I lost my temper. It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.’

‘Do you?’ she asked.

‘Sure, sure.’

Sue ran her fingers through his hair. ‘It’s not necessary to lie.’

‘It’s never been more necessary,’ he said with a small smile.

Sue stood. Kent looked up at her as she placed his hands on her waist. She kissed his forehead and he pressed his face against her. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her.

Sue closed her eyes as she stroked his hair. His body shuddered, but he didn’t make any sound apart from his rapid breaths. She hadn’t seen him like this before. When she had ended their relationship, he had been cold and angry. If he cried, then he did it out of her sight and hearing.

The idea of him crying was less shocking then it should be. Kent was not weak or unmanly. She didn’t find his crying shameful. She didn’t want to look away, and when she whispered nonsense it wasn’t to make him stop. It was to comfort him. To remind him that he was heard. That he was not alone.

After a while the sound of his breathing changed. He moved a little so that he was just resting his forehead against her. He dropped his arms so that only his hands were on her waist.

Sue gently scratched the back of his neck. It was a quirk of his. She knew he enjoyed it. Just a light touch on the nape of his neck. She heard him sigh softly.

‘Good?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ His voice was low and gravelly.

It made her shiver. ‘I wish you would cut your hair and trim your beard,’ she said. ‘You’d feel better.’

‘I wish you’d married me instead,’ he said.

Sue looked down sharply. He hadn’t moved.

‘You shouldn’t,’ she said. ‘I don’t like the person I am around you.’

Now he looked up: hazel eyes framed by dark, damp lashes.

‘What?’ he asked.

Sue kissed his forehead and turned away. ‘I think you heard.’ She moved to the coffee machine. ‘I don’t treat my husband the way I treated you.’

She heard him swivel on the chair.

‘How did you treat me?’ he asked.

She shot him a look, but he seemed honestly curious.

‘I did not treat you as an autonomous person entitled to his own privacy and space.’

‘Oh.’ He stood up, and moved across to her. ‘I never minded that.’

‘I did,’ she said, not looking at him. Sue turned on the coffee machine.

Kent was quiet for a long moment. ‘You’re different with your husband?’

‘I am calm and controlled with my husband.’

He chewed his lip. ‘I made you insecure?’ he asked, voice uncertain.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped. ‘I am never insecure.’

She could feel him looking at her.

‘But it’s my fault?’ he asked.

Sue glared at him. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘Why’re you angry?’ Kent asked gently.

‘This is what I’m like around you,’ she said. ‘You make me... emotional. It is extremely unwelcome.’

Kent kissed her cheek. ‘Okay.’

Sue swallowed. ‘Okay?’

He nodded. ‘I’m not going to push you.’

She made the coffee and handed him a cup. ‘That’s it?’

‘Sue I... I don’t know what you want me to say. You know how I feel.’ He shrugged. ‘This little encounter has hardly changed my mind.’

‘I’m sorry about your mother,’ she said.

‘Thank you.’

Sue put down her coffee, half drunk. ‘I should go.’

‘You can stay,’ he said quietly.

‘I don’t think that would be wise.’ Sue touched the back of his hand. ‘You should get a haircut and trim your beard. I will be very annoyed if you don’t.’

Kent gave a smile, small and a little sad. ‘Well, I don’t want that.’

Sue gathered her things together.

He walked her to the door.

On the doorstep, she meant to kiss his cheek in goodbye. Instead her lips caught his. She felt her hand stroke down his chest. Sue stepped back quickly.

‘I have to go,’ she said, her breath quick and shallow.

Kent leaned against the wall. ‘You can come back whenever you’d like,’ he said.

‘I don’t think so.’

He nodded. ‘Goodbye, Sue.’

‘Goodbye.’

The End


End file.
